


PJO Pride Oneshots

by Aegis12



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Bisexual Character, Camp Half Blood, Caught, Chiron - Freeform, Coming Out, Drawings, Gay Character, Genderfluid Character, Multi, Polysexual Character, Theyna - Freeform, Valhalla, fierrochase, solangelo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegis12/pseuds/Aegis12
Summary: A collection of pride oneshots featuring PJO characters.Originally written 2018, transferred from fanfiction.net.
Relationships: Magnus Chase/Alex Fierro, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Kudos: 42





	1. Solangelo

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Percy Jackson or any other fandoms mentioned.

"Nico, you've got to eat!"

"No, I don't," Nico complained. "I'm fine."

"You're thin as bone. I can see your bones." Will said, a motherly tone taken over his voice and a steely look in his eyes, "You have got to eat."

Nico glared – which, through their relationship, Will had grown immune to.

"Doctor's orders."

"But -"

"It's too dark in here," Will insisted, glancing around at the Hades cabin, which was painted black.

"I didn't decorate it!" Nico protested.

Wil ignored him and grabbed his wrist.

And to Nico, the outside was truly terrifying.

It was bright and full of colour, and Nico, in black jeans and his new black aviator's jacket – his last one had ripped during the giant war – simply didn't go with the brightness of the outside world. Personally, he would've preferred to stay in his cabin.

"Will -" he whined – not that he would ever admit it that he whined. Nico Di Angelo did not whine.

"You have to eat," His boyfriend insisted.

Nico grumbled, but shut up when the older boy kissed him.

"That was mean," Nico said once they broke apart.

Will broke out into laughter. "You're pouting."

"The Ghost King does not pout." Nico growled.

"Shut up, Di Angelo."

Nico Di Angelo shut up.

The two walked in comfortable silence, loud chatter reaching their ears when the neared the pavilion. A minute and four seconds passed before Nico spoke again.

"I swear, Solace -" His foot caught on a fallen branch and he tripped, stumbling forward, vision blurry. He cursed.

Will laughed at him.

"I just -" he walked into someone.

"Goddammit!" Nico glanced up.

It was Clarisse. Hair tied back, spear in hand, she looked as if she was heading to the arena.

How is she up so early? It's not even eleven yet, Nico thought. He regained his posture and forced down a blush. He could not believe he'd done that. And in front of Clarisse, of all people.

She smirked. "That must've done something to your reputation, Death boy."

"Don't call me Death boy," He brushed the dirt from his pants – not that you could see it, for it blended with the black of his jeans.

Clarisse rolled her yes. "Have fun, lovebirds!" she called over her shoulder as she walked off.

Nico blushed.

Will laughed.

"There's people." He whispered in horror, once they reached the dining pavilion.

Will rolled his eyes endearingly. "Yeah, eat." And then, as an afterthought, added, "Doctor's orders."

He dragged Nico over to the Hades table.

"Y'know, for a boyfriend, you're not very nice, Solace."

Will winked. "You love me."

"Unfortunately."

He stared at the plate in front of him. Eating, he thought, it's so mainstream. His stomach rumbled. That bloody traitor, he thought angrily as Will smirked beside him.

"Hey, Nico," Piper appeared behind Will, eyes skimming his outfit and frowning. "Will finally manage to convince you to eat?"

"No," Nico said, as Will answered,

"Yes."

Nico sent him a glare.

Her kaleidoscope eyes seemed calculating. "Hmm." She blinked. "I think you'd look nice in something other black, Nico." She told him, even though she knew it was hopeless.

"I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour." He quoted.

"Worth a try," Piper muttered.

"Piper!" Someone called from the Aphrodite table. "We need your opinion!"

She sent them an apologetic look and jogged off.

Will gave him a pointed look.

"Fine," Nico growled. "Pass me a – a fruit or something." He could've easily just told the plate what he wanted and have it appear in front of him, but he wanted Will to have to walk across to some other table.

Will smiled brightly. That bloody smile, which flashed in the sunlight and shone. "Good," he said cheerfully, kissing Nico, soft and sweet, chapped lips against Nico's colder ones. Nico smiled, tenderly, a smile for Will, only Will. The son of Apollo winked, and Nico watched as he headed over to the Athena table where Annabeth seemed to be in the middle of an intense conversation with her siblings. Will spoke to the blonde girl and reached over, grabbing an apple in his firm grip.

"Nico!" Will called, throwing it over to the younger boy. Nico caught it – and the pavilion went dead silent. Will smirked. Annabeth's jaw dropped. Piper's glass shattered over at the Aphrodite table. Percy choked on his pancakes and broke into a coughing fit. Then there was whispers. Words he couldn't make out, scattered across the pavilion. Words, about him and Will, sentences which blurred together, quiet and incredulous and shocked.

"What?" Nico asked, irritated. "Is it poisoned or something?" He seemed to be the only one who had no idea what was going on.

"Nope!" Will grinned at him.

"Then what -"

"Nothing, Nico, nothing." The son of Apollo ruffled the boy's hair and smirked.

"But then what? Is it, like, poisoned, or fake, or -"

"Nope!" Will said cheerfully. "Eat, Ghost boy, Doctor's orders."

"But -"

Will walked off.

The pavilion was still quiet. You couldn't hear a thing.

And despite Nico's clear confusion, no one answered him.

He was going to kill Will. He was going to murder that adorable, endearing, bright son of Apollo.


	2. Theyna

"We should tell Jason," Reyna said, Thalia's head resting on her chest.

"Reyna -"

"I know, I just – you don't like lying to him."

"Well, no," Thalia admitted, twisting the bracelet looped around her wrist. "I just don't think . . ."

"Don't think we should?" Reyna suggested.

"Yeah." Her hand fell onto the couch.

"Think about it, Thalia."

"Alright," she sighed. "I'll think about it." She sent Reyna a smile. "No guarantees."

"Praetor!" A voice came from the other side of the door, and with it, a bang. "You're needed! New camper!"

Reyna sighed. "Alright!" she called. "Give me a minute!"

The footsteps faded.

"Thalia, you need to -"

"But you're warm," She grumbled.

"Thalia."

"Alright, alright," She huffed, rolling off the couch in the Praetor's office and onto her feet.

"Praetor!"

Reyna rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes." She muttered.

She grabbed her silver hunting knives from the table and threw the canister into her jacket pocket.

"I shall be returning, Miss Avila Ramirez Arellano."

"Don't doubt it," Reyna said, clipping on her Praetor's cloak.

"Wait." Thalia frowned. "Wait a sec."

Reyna's calculating eyes drove into her. "Yeah?"

"Your initials spell RARA?"

Reyna glared.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner? I literally could've called you Rara."

"Thalia, shut up."

She smirked. "Gods. I cannot believe I didn't – perfect opportunity – missed it -" How had I not realised this?

"Shut up." Reyna growled. "I swear, I will -"

"You love me for it," Thalia said, heading for the door. Like, seriously, who could not love me?

"I'm seriously starting to question my choices."

Thalia laughed. "Or so you say."

She leaned in and kissed the other girl, wrapping her arm around Reyna's neck and slipping one around her waist. The praetor's lips were gentle, soft and tender. Reyna's hands tangled in the girl's hair; tugging. She ran her tongue across the other girl's bottom lip, her hand tracing the small of Reyna's back. Moments passed – it could've been seconds or minutes until they broke apart and Thalia rested her forehead against Reyna's.

"I actually have to go, Thalia." Reyna managed.

"Yeah, I know. Bloody camper."

Reyna agreed, pushing back from the hunter and regaining her posture.

The door opened. "Praetor, we insist -" The centurion paused at the sight of Artemis' Lieutenant. None of the guys ever liked being near the hunters. Thinking about it, though, they were probably scared of getting turned into an Antelope. "Excuse -" he started as Reyna's dogs growled.

"No, no, it's okay." Reyna said. "I was simply finishing off a meeting with the lieutenant."

"Yes, well," It was visible that the centurion was nervous.

Newbie, Thalia thought with a smirk. She loved how afraid people could get in front of the war goddess' daughter.

"They are waiting, praetor."

"I shall be out shortly." Reyna informed him. She gave Thalia a firm nod. "Lieutenant."

Thalia fell back into character – the role she played because they weren't out yet. Their relationship was still secret. "Praetor." She nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement. "I shall be going."

The Roman's mouth tightened. "Yes. And do run that by Lady Diana."

"Of course." She responded in time. There wasn't actually anything to remember, to explain or to run by Lady Artemis, but they had a cover to keep. Thalia walked out the door, and then, halfway through, turned. "And Praetor? Do respond."

Reyna stayed silent, but there was acknowledgement in her fiery black eyes. "Now, Centurion West, I am done. And next time, do knock. My dogs will not be as friendly next time."

"Of – of course, Praetor."

Thalia could hear parts of their conversation as she headed back to where the hunters had set up camp, on the other side of Camp Jupiter.

"Well, Thalia?" Lady Artemis asked once she'd reached camp.

She shook her head. "Nothing, Milady. They do not know." She technically wasn't lying. They had talked about the information the hunters needed – the whereabouts of the Teumessian Fox – and Reyna truly had not known.

Artemis sighed. "Does not matter. I had not expected them to. Your sisters have an idea, Thalia. Go check up on them. They seem to want your opinion."

"Yes, Milady."

Thalia was scheduled to meet up with Reyna again at 7:00pm, which had been previously arranged with Lady Artemis, and the time passed quickly, yet also slowly. She was given the task of hunting for dinner, which she pulled off quickly with four arrows and a throw of a silver dagger. Dinner was eaten at six, and the camp was loud with the chatter of the sisters. And at six forty-five, she got pulled out of dishwashing duty by Lady Artemis and told to return to Camp Jupiter.

"Try to find out all the information they have on the Teumessian Fox. Whatever they have could help," Lady Artemis said. "And . . ." she frowned. "If your brother is there, you may visit him also."

Artemis didn't like boys, but she understood how much Thalia's brother was to her lieutenant. He'd been ripped from her life and left a place which could never be filled. Even when it had been close to sixteen years, after the Titan war, the girl still had not been able to speak her brother's name without breaking. She knew what he was to Thalia and had accepted that even if she did tell her not to visit him, she would anyway. But she wouldn't ban her hunters, her sisters, from visiting their siblings.

She nodded.

"Go." She said. "And be back in a couple of hours."

"Yes, Milady."

Thalia knocked. Sometimes she would just walk straight in, but she was feeling respectful – or, at least, more respectful than usual. Which, often, wasn't hard.

"Yes?"

She opened the door, and stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"Thalia." She greeted. "You're three minutes early."

"You were keeping track of the time." Thalia smirked. "How sweet of you."

"Yeah, shut up." She moved from her chair and kissed her. Thalia relaxed into it and tried to pretend the buckling of her knees was from the hunting she'd done earlier in the day. Reyna cupped her face and rested a hand at the back of her neck, her tongue darting out and flicking the hunter's lip. Thalia's hands threaded through her hair, and she tried – and failed miserably – not to give a pathetic-sounding whimper.

And then someone coughed and holy shit crap who came in without knocking I am going to kill them-

Someone else gave a high, girly scream.

They separated quickly and spun around.

Iris message. No one had come in, it was an Iris message. Not that it made anything better.

"Shit," Thalia cursed – Jason and Percy stared back at her.

"I – uh – we just called for – you know what – it doesn't matter- we'll just – call later – we're fine – we don't need – no – uh -"

The look on Jason's face could've been worth it. Thalia had never seen anyone look more disturbed. Then again, she thought, he had just seen his sister with another girl who used to have a crush on him.

Thalia winced. "Well, we don't have to tell Jason anymore." She tried weakly as she blushed.

"Not the time." Reyna hissed.

"Tell Jason anymore?" Jason spluttered. "How long's this thing been going on?"

They glanced at each other.

"Er – just let me -"

"Five months." Reyna objected. Her tone was calmer, but she still had a partial look of absolute horror on her face.

"Five months?" Percy's voice sounded incredulous. "And when were you going to -"

"Soon!" Thalia protested. One look at Percy's face said clearly who screamed.

"Jason! What's taken so -" Piper's voice could be heard as she rounded a corner. "Oh – hey, guys." She frowned. "What's wrong?"

Jason closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing. "Piper – oh gods -"

"Okay . . ." she muttered. "I'll just . . ." she stared at Thalia and Reyna through the message and took in their appearance – their flushed faces, ruffled hair, partially crumpled clothing, and the embarrassment on their faces, in their body language. Realisation clicked visibly, and the daughter of Aphrodite smirked. She laughed.

"I'm just going to take Jason, because he looks completely traumatised, but – later – I want details, you two."

Thalia groaned and buried her head in Reyna's chest. She had no dignity left. One night, one meeting, and suddenly every bloody bit of it was gone. Gods, she was screwed.

Piper's laughter echoed as she led Jason back to his cabin, his face blank, blind and horrified.

"Yep – okay – you two go back to – whatever it was you were doing -" Percy swiped his hand through the air and the image disappeared.

"I cannot believe that just -" Thalia began.

"I know."

"That was – my dignity – my reputation – gone."

Reyna laughed.

"But, I'll admit, Jason's expression was almost worth it."

"Almost."

"Almost." Thalia agreed. "I'm just not exactly looking forward to our next conversation anymore."

"And Piper wants details." Reyna groaned.

"You're coming with me," Thalia said firmly. "You are not ditching me to face her questions. Just imagine the Aphrodite cabin when they find out."

"Let's not." Reyna disagreed. "That may be the only thing that terrifies me."

Thalia winced, shuddering. "Makeup, too." She whispered. "Well, make up that isn't eyeliner." She added, winking.

Reyna rolled her eyes. "You just couldn't resist that, could you?"

"What? I need for the style. It's completely necessary."

"Totally," Reyna touched her braid. "But you would look weird without it."

"Exactly. You can't have me without eyeliner. That would just be – imagine the horror."

"When does Artemis want you back?"

"A couple of hours."

Reyna checked her watch. "Good." It'd been less than one. And Thalia really didn't intend on getting any information.

She leaned forward and kissed the daughter of Bellona.


	3. Will Solace

"Will, you're tired and you haven't slept in three days," Kayla said gently. "You need sleep,"

"But -" he tried to protest. "There's still more -"

"We'll take care of them," she told him. "You're not the only healer in camp."

His speech was slurred from sleep deprivation and he was half asleep. "You?"

"You've been lacking," Kayla gave him a pointed look, and then seemed to reconsider her words. "Well, for most people other than Di Angelo. You're too tired to work, Will."

It wasn't that there had been a war recently, or that most people in camp had injuries needing tending to. Working was simply Will's way of coping since he had begun to develop feelings for a certain son of Hades. It gave him something to do, to focus on. The son of Hades wasn't a good person to develop feelings for – he stayed locked in his cabin most of the time and hardly socialised, and when he did, it was generally with his sister – or Jason. Will had never understood the bond Nico had with Jason, and, apparently, neither did the rest of the Seven whom had been on the Argo II. Jason and Nico had gone out somewhere together, and when they'd returned, they had this unspoken bond; as if something had happened out there that neither wished to speak of, but sparked a trust, a friendship of sorts.

"No, I'm just -"

"Go, Will," She ordered.

Will mumbled in protest, words and sentences Kayla couldn't make out.

"I will carry you there if I have to,"

"Alright, alright," Will grumbled. "But they are my patients, and if you need me, I can -"

"Yes, Will." She said impatiently. "I'll come get you if we need extra assistance." Which we won't, she added silently.

Will stumbled out of the infirmary and back to the Apollo cabin.

"Kayla finally get you to leave?" Austin asked as he entered, his fingers resting on the strings of his saxophone.

"Yeah,"

"You haven't slept in three days," he said, strumming a chord. "I haven't seen you leave the infirmary since the end of the Giant War. Sure, we had a lot of injuries, but we could've managed without you."

"No," Will mumbled, not even bothering to change his clothes before he fell onto the bottom bunk.

Minutes passed, and Will fell asleep to the tune of Austin's soft melodies.

The cabin was empty when Will awoke, and he wasn't surprised. Most Apollo kids were awake at dawn – out practicing archery or quiet music, sometimes tending to the injured. But when Will rolled over, the clock beside his bunk read 9:56, and he yelped. He was never up this late; more than half the camp would be awake and already training.

"Shit," he mumbled, stumbling from the warmth of his bedsheets and nearly collapsing. A laugh echoed from above him.

"Spectacular, Will." Alex said from above him, and he groaned. Gods forbid his reputation stay intact.

He muttered something, incoherent and slurred from sleep.

"I think they're waiting for you, Will," she told you. "They're wondering whether you've actually been killed in your sleep and none of them realised it."

"Of course they do," he responded.

Alex shrugged. "It's not like you to sleep in this late. Dawn was," she checked her watch. "Around five hours ago. You're generally the first up."

Will glanced up at her. She leant against the bedframe of the top bunk, knees pulled up, sketching something on a notepad. Her dark brown hair flowed in short, curled locks, her blue eyes standing out brilliantly against her darker skin. Despite most of Apollo's children gaining their father's trademark blonde hair, Alex seemed to have acquired her mortal parent's looks, apart from her eyes.

"Will," she frowned, flipping the sketchbook over so he could see what she was drawing, "What do you think?"

Will observed it, eyes calculating. "Is that – is that me?"

"Huh?" she glanced at it, like she'd forgotten what was drawn on the page. "Oh, yeah. You think?"

"Yeah, actually it looks like – wait, who's that I'm with?"

Beside where she'd drawn Will, there was another boy, one with olive skin and long, black hair framing his face. His body was rather thin, and although the drawing was incomplete, Will could recognise the boy.

"Is that – am I holding hands with Nico Di Angelo?" He managed to choke out. He wasn't against this, but the fact that one of his siblings might have caught on to the fact that he wasn't as straight as Will would've liked, and that he had begun to fall for the fifteen-year old Italian made his throat constrict and chest tighten.

The picture was of the two of them, Nico dressed in his regular black jeans, boots, and aviator's jacket, Stygian iron sword clipped onto his belt, his hair falling beside his pale face in shaggy locks, his dark eyes with visible hurt and lost swirling in them. Their hands were locked, and Will stood beside them, blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight and blue eyes bright. His body bore an orange camp half blood shirt, and the two of them looked like an odd pair, the dark and bright contrast clashing against each other in a calm sort of way. The two stood in front of Thalia's tree, where the dragon draped itself across the trunk of the tree, deadly, but, compared to some monsters Will had seen, it looked a bit . . . cute. Will had been captured mid-laugh, and Nico had a slight smile adorning his face, one you could only see if you really looked for it. Hardly a smile, but still there. The frown which was usually there at all times had relaxed a bit.

"Yeah." Alex responded, smiling slightly, head tilted to the right. "But I wasn't too sure. I don't think I've gotten Di Angelo's expression right."

Will wanted to assure her that she had, that Nico looked great in the sketch.

"I guess I could improve," the girl mused. "It's only a draft."

Alex, Will could admit, was probably one the camp's best artists, rivalling with Rachel Dare, the oracle.

"No," Will said slowly. "I think . . ."

"That he looks incredibly hot? Gorgeous?" she suggested, and Will fought down a blush. "Yeah, I already know your views on him – there's no need to tell me."

Will choked. How could she have – he'd never even told anyone! And he did think he'd been fairly discreet about it.

She laughed at the look on his face. "Oh, please, Will," she said, sketching another line, and Will wondered whether it was Nico's jawline she was drawing. "It's quite obvious, if you look for it. But I don't think anyone else suspects a thing." She looked down at him, saw the concerned look on his face. "Come here, Will."

Hesitantly, the head counsellor pulled himself up onto the top bunk.

"Personally, I think you should go out and tell them you're not dead and there is no need to start creating a shroud, but, as you don't seem so keen about doing that, you can stay here and have good chats with me." She flashed him a smile and blinked. "For one, Will," she laughed, waving a hand, "There is simply no need to look that concerned. Seriously. Being bi – or whatever you are – doesn't even matter. The only thing you should be worried about is me stealing your boyfriend. Because seriously, Will," she winked. "No one can resist me."

Will let out a tense laugh.

"But to be honest, Will, not being straight is probably the least weird thing to have to do with the gods. They were always going around, gallivanting with literally anyone. The only thing you shouldn't be sure about is that – why Di Angelo? The guy barely emerges from his cabin."

Will shrugged.

"So, Will?" she winked. "What do you identify as?" she paused. "Because I'm not just going to assume you're gay."

"Bi," Will answered hesitantly, heart racing in his chest, hands clenched in the sheets of Alex's bed.

"Okay." She picked up her pencil from where she'd set it down earlier and sketched another line, adding onto Nico's sword. "I'm pan, by the way." She paused. "Which is a totally valid sexuality, so you can shut up."

Will managed not to choke, his face red, heart calming. "I never said it wasn't."

"Good. Because otherwise I'd be forced to disown you." She checked her watch. "11:23." Alex gave him a pointed look. "I think you should go out there now. They've probably already begun planning your funeral and shroud."

"Yeah," Will mumbled.

He jumped to the floor and collected some clothes from a bag, ducking into the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He didn't glance at Alex as he slid down the door and places his head in his hands, thoughts overwhelming him, trapping him. They swirled, a hurricane of sentences and jumbled words, letters spinning through his brain, trying to form sentences and thoughts. He hardly felt the first tear slip through his eyelid, didn't know how long he stayed there, trying to calm his breathing and tell himself it was okay, she wouldn't tell anyone, he wouldn't be rejected. He knew- he knew he shouldn't worry, that sexualities hardly mattered with the gods, but everything was just so confusing. But he couldn't help it – the feeling was natural, and he panicked. Panicked, trying to even out his breathing and calm himself. At one point, he thought he heard Alex say that,

"It's okay, Will. As long as you don't try and steal whoever I end up dating."

But he couldn't respond, his back against the door, and the silence was all he needed to know that Alex had finally left, the quiet opening of a door the message he needed to know he was alone now, no one could hear him. He knew they cared, he knew it would be okay, but he couldn't make himself smile, and even after he calmed, so much later, and no one had come in, he didn't know how long he stayed there, staring blankly at the shower and thinking how he should have one. But he didn't, not until later when someone came banging on the door, yelling at him to hurry up, and through the constant noise in his ears, he couldn't recognise the voice, only checked to see if it was visible that he had cried, tidied himself up, and exited the bathroom after regaining his posture.

But he wasn't expecting the cabin to be full, to be surrounded by his siblings, and he swallowed, throwing his unused clothes back into his bag, then falling back onto his bed.

"Will?" Someone asked; it sounded like Kayla, but he couldn't bring himself to check, only to roll over and try to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BISEXUALITY IS VALID AND YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.


	4. Max and Paolo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is an OC.

"Paolo's pretty cute, though, don't you reckon?"

Max paused outside the door to the Hermes cabin. It wasn't unusual for him to hear this sort of conversation from his siblings, and he didn't have anything against it, most of the time. It was common for one of his siblings and a friend, or multiple, to hang in the Hermes cabin and talk. He'd generally ignore it, unless he was mentioned, but this time, he couldn't bring himself to simply ignore it, throw himself on a bed and open a book.

"Well, yeah, I guess, but -"

"There's rumours he has a boyfriend." Someone cut in, and Max paused, his hand on the door.

"I heard." Another voice, one he couldn't recognise, said.

"That'd get kind of annoying, though, wouldn't it? He's Brazilian, and he refuses to speak English."

"Maybe his boyfriend is fluent in Brazilian?"

Max was fluent in Brazilian, but he needn't be. His boyfriend could speak English, he just didn't like to in front of the other campers. But what he wanted to know was how rumours of his and the son of Hebes' relationship had gotten out. He pushed the door open and closed it quietly behind him.

The others in the cabin, who Max could now recognise as a group of girls and boys from the Aphrodite and Apollo cabin, hardly spared him a glance as he entered, continuing their conversation like he wasn't there – he was used to this. He was fairly new compared to some of his siblings, whom had been here for around five years. He hadn't fought in the Titan War and came in half-way through the Giant War. In a way, he was glad he hadn't come earlier, for he suffered no losses during the wars - he hadn't known anyone from either of the camps. And while he pitied the ones who had lost people, friends and family and acquaintances, he couldn't bring himself to mourn them. He hadn't known them – and when he did mourn them, it was the friendships that could've been, the idea of who they could've been that he mourned, not the actual people, their personalities and their voice and laughter. And there was guilt for this, guilt which settled in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't shake away. He tried to tell himself he had a reason, that anyone else who was in his situation would do the same thing. He tried, repeating the sentences over in his head; but he couldn't bring himself to believe it. So it was this he cried over, the idea of them, not the people, and he hated himself for it. He was often ignored – he wondered whether this was because he didn't share the history, the memories which the rest of the demigods had. If it was because he hadn't been through anything, hadn't seen the recent wars and didn't understand what they'd been through. If it was,Max thought, he could understand that. They had reason.

He ducked under the top bunk and slid onto the bottom one, tugging a book – which had been translated to Ancient Greek, so he could read it – and pretended to read, paying close attention to the conversation above him.

"-You think about the new guy from Iris?"

The topic of conversation had changed, and Max sighed, bending his head and flipping onto the right page. His eyes skimmed the words, the sentences, but he hardly notices when he flipped a page. He couldn't bring himself to pay attention, the words going through his brain, yet he couldn't remember what happened. After many minutes and failed attempts, he flipped the book closed.

It must've been twenty minutes later when the group of demigods left, and Max' sister called for him.

"Hey, Max?"

He was slightly surprised, to say the least. "Huh?"

"C'mere." She said, her tone impatient, gesturing to the door.

Max rolled his eyes but slid out of the bed and followed her outside.

"Walk with me."

Max frowned. Why would she want him to walk with her? Why would she want to go for a walk anyway? He gave her a weird look.

"What? Am I not allowed to talk to my brother?"

Well, not when you're acting like you're about to deliver really bad news, Max thought. And not when you're not even acting like yourself. But despite this, he said aloud, "Sure."

His sister smiled. "Good. I've been thinking about something."

"Something?"

She shrugged. "Nothing that important."

Max raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "Yeah, totally. Sam, you never want to talk with me. Which would make it you have something you probably deem important to tell me." His pace fell in step with hers.

Sam bit her lip. "Okay, yeah. Like, it's not important, but it's important to me." She paused. "And probably to you."

Just get to point, goddammit.

"You seemed tense when we were talking about Paolo earlier."

"Yeah? It was nothing. He's a friend." he lied easily, with practice.

"Didn't seem like that."

By now, the two of them had reached the stables, where it was empty, and she leant back against one of them. Max tensed, attempting to make his body language look at ease and like he couldn't care less. He rather thought he failed miserably at it.

"I saw you two last night," she continued, and Max inhaled sharply.

He tried to dismiss it quickly. "We were talking," he said, but it was clear that talking wasn't what she'd seen them doing.

"Max," she sighed, flicking her dark hair behind her shoulder, "No one would care."

Max liked to think he agreed with that statement. But he didn't. He stayed silent.

She took his silence as disagreement.

"Look, Max. No one is going to care if you're gay or whatever -"

"I'm not gay," he hissed, wincing at the tone he used but not regretting it.

"Woah, woah." She raised her hands. "Okay, then bi -"

"I'm not bi, either." He bit out, his eyes burning. "If you're going to talk sexualities, Sam, at least make sure you know some other than gay, bi, and straight!"

She blinked. "There is?"

"Of course there is, goddammit!" his voice raised. The pair had started to attract some attention, but the few who looked their way rolled their eyes.

"So -" she cleared her throat nervously. I have no idea what's going on, she realised. "So – uh, which one are you?" she winced at the uncertainty in her tone.

"Poly." He muttered, catching sight of Paolo, his dark skin shining in the sunlight, dark eyes curious. He tried to send him a discreet smile, and the Brazilian boy tilted his head slightly.

"What?"

"Polysexual," he repeated, his voice a little louder.

She frowned. "That an actual thing?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"Elaborate?"

"Most people just say bi," he sighed. If he wasn't going to tell his sister, he was going to make sure she actually knew what he was talking about.

"So why . . .?" she trailed off. Why didn't you?

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Helpful," she muttered. "Uh – do you mind – what is it actually?"

"Attraction to multiple genders, but not all."

"Isn't that bi?"

"No," he tried to limit the venom in his voice. No one knew sexualities other than bi, gay, and straight these days. He hated it. "Bi is attraction to only girls and boys, while Poly is attraction to multiple genders. It could be boys and non-binary people, genderfluid and girls, girls and agender." He tried to explain. "Get it?"

"Kind of?"

He sighed exasperatedly.

"Doesn't matter. I technically get it."

"Right," he said, slightly uncomfortable with the way Sam's eyes shone with mischief and thinking that she really didn't get it. "And could you – maybe – not tell anyone?"

She gave him a frustrated look. "No one's going to care. I mean, maybe a few people, but screw them." She rolled her eyes, and for a second, Max almost believed her. "Alright," she sighed.

Max nearly smiled.

"I just – I do hope you don't accidentally kill Paolo from boredom."

Max choked.


	5. Fierrochase (Beatrice)

"You can't kill Magnus," Alex said, garrote wire in hand, frowning from above Magnus' dying body on the blood-cloaked battlefield. "Only I can kill Magnus. That's my job." She stated, as if this were obvious.

"Wow, really feeling the love." Magnus muttered. "A little help?" he gestured to the spear in his side. "Then you can kill me?"

She looked in thought, like she was deciding whether to walk away, murder some others and let him die, or help.

He could feel the life slipping from his scarred body, and he tensed, trying to heal himself.

Alex grabbed one end of the spear and yanked it out without hesitation.

"Ouch," He winced.

Alex rolled under a spear and kicked a guy in the stomach. "C'mon, Chase! It's all -" A sword embedded itself in her gut. "Ah." She glanced down and stared at it. The she glared at the person who had struck her. "Was that really necessary?" she complained. "I nearly had seven minutes!"

And then she collapsed, dead.

Magnus struggled to his feet and pulled Jack off the chain looped around his neck.

"Nope, sorry, buddy," the guy grinned, in an 'I like to say I'm sorry because it gives a good rep but I'm actually, really not sorry' way. He drove the same sword into Magnus' stomach, and he died with the vision of murder and blood in front of his eyes.

It was a scream that awoke floor nineteen. And then another. Two more, and yells echoed from various floors.

"Shut up! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Kill them tomorrow!"

"Who is it necessary to murder at one in the morning?!"

Another scream and Alex Fierro awoke.

He grumbled. No one interrupted his sleep and survived.

He couldn't recognise the scream, which was rough and sounded like they'd been crying only seconds earlier. It was guttural; sobs blended with the sound. He could hear the sharp breathing, ragged and pained. Quiet sobs, names he didn't know. How could he hear it so clearly – were they close? He rolled over; whoever it was probably –

I know that voice, he realised, eyes wide and stumbling from his bed. Maggie. Alex snatched his garrotted wire from his bedside. I swear, if Magnus is getting murdered, I'm going to be extremely pissed, he thought. I'm the only who can kill my boyfriend. No one else.

Out in the hall, the entirety of floor nineteen bore frowns. Whispers echoed quietly in the hall, and Alex noticed einherjj from other floors beginning to gather. Why has no one gone to help him?

He practically crashed into Magnus' room.

He was asleep.

But not at rest.

He was thrashing; the covers on the bed were a mess, on the floor and the top sheet tangled in his legs. His screams were rough and harsh, full of anguish and pain. How long had he been screaming? And how had they not noticed it before?

He knelt by Magnus' side. "Maggie," he whispered, his tone urgent. He brushed away a tear. "Magnus!"

The tears were leaking through his eyelids. He writhed on the bed, crying and his body trembling.

"Magnus!" Alex yelled, nearly full on punching him to wake him. He wondered briefly whether killing him would work – would the nightmares stop if he was suddenly murdered in his sleep?

He was mumbling, words and phrases and names which Alex couldn't catch. He thought he heard his name among them, sounding desperate, frantic and afraid. A whimpering noise escaped Magnus' throat.

"Maggie! Magnus, you complete idiot, c'mon!"

Magnus slept still, screaming, crying, shaking.

"No," he mumbled, his voice weak. "No!"

He awoke. Not in a dramatic way, with his body shooting up and jerking out, but simply awaking with a sharp gasp.

"Magnus," Alex whispered, releasing his tight grip and staring down at him; a broken boy, hurt and fragile.

"No," Magnus whispered, tears streaking his face, and beginning to struggle against Alex' grip. "No, no, no," his elbow jerked out and he strained against the other boy.

"Magnus, no, it's okay!" he cried out, releasing him entirely. "It's okay, it's okay."

He calmed slightly, obviously fighting against completely collapsing, and Alex moved over, touching him on the shoulder lightly. "You okay?" It was a stupid question, he knew, of course he wasn't okay. People who were okay didn't wake up screaming and crying and struggling. Magnus liked to pretend he was okay – but he wasn't. At times, Alex could see through the mask he put up, he could glimpse the pain and misery in his eyes. And then it was thrown back up, the smile which was often fake, the despair and desperation in his expression gone. But now he was completely vulnerable, for, Alex imagined, the first time in many years.

"Gods, Magnus," he whispered under his breath unintentionally.

"Yeah," Magnus managed to answer, "Yeah, of course I'm okay. I'm always okay." He tried for a grin. "I'm the king of okay."

Alex laughed dryly. "No, you're not."

"Oh, that's a rubbish title, forget that title."

"No, you're not." Alex repeated, frowning.

The smile on his face faltered, but it had never been convincing. The tears had begun to dry, but his body still shook slightly. His voice was weak, and he looked so fragile, like one wrong move would break him completely and he would snap into pieces, like a piece of shattered pottery.

Alex wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, brushing away the tears in the corner of his eyes and tightening his grip. Magnus hesitated, and then responded.

"Do you -"

"I don't want to talk about it,"

Alex understood. Talking about nightmares took an insane amount of trust.

They stayed there, for many minutes, in comfortable silence, words unspoken but understood.

"Is it – is it going to be okay?"

Alex could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the fear he tried so hard to hide. He knew that Magnus hadn't let anyone see him like this for so long, most probably since before his mother died.

It's going to be okay, he wanted to say. But he wasn't sure - for the first time, he thought, maybe it won't be okay.


	6. Piper McLean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was written on request. Please correct me if I got anything wrong. Based AFTER the Burning Maze but Tyrant's Tomb hadn't been released yet when I wrote this.

It had been two years since Jason had been struck by Caligula and killed. A year since Piper had screamed his name, over and over, as if it was a ritual which could bring him back. She'd begun to recover, after many long hours spent crying, her quiet sobs filling the room and shaking her body. So long crying out, pleading for someone to be there, to comfort her, to bring Jason back. Her father had tried to help her, but he couldn't; he didn't understand what had happened. When they had returned to her home, Jason's body scarred and bleeding and wounded, and her father had come rushing up the hill, she had wanted to yell at him to stop; and then the Mist had gone to work, and her father assumed it had been a surfing accident, a death on the waves with helpless people, people who couldn't help and were there, watching a death from afar, as a life closed and was torn away from the world. After all Jason had done - after all he'd completed, they'd ripped away his sacrifice too. And she'd been so angry, screaming and sobbing and shaking. He had a life, friends, a camp, people relying on him, and then Caligula had murdered him, taken it away.

Slowly, she'd begun to recover. With Mellie's help, her constant comfort, her presence, she'd healed, like a restitched patch in a torn blanket.

And after a while, many months after Jason's funeral, when she'd lowered his coffin into the ground and broken down in the middle of it, she thought of Thalia's reaction.

Even with how much she missed him, Piper couldn't begin to imagine what it would've been like for Thalia.

Thalia, the daughter of Zeus, the Hunter who liked to pretend she was always okay. His sister, who'd lost him twice. Once, when Jason was two, willingly given away by his mother, to Hera. Who, so many years later, still couldn't speak his name, who no one knew about. Thalia, who had been ecstatic to find him alive, even without his memories of her. And now, he was gone. Again – once more, and this time, forever. She'd come to his funeral, her snark gone, crying, screaming, a wreck. Piper had watched while she cursed the gods – cursed them for taking Jason away from her, cursed them for the life of a demigod, for not even caring while their kids were killed, brutally and young. And then she'd collapsed, and Piper couldn't approach her. Eventually, her sobs dried, her body trembling, eyes stormy with rage and sorrow and lost hope. The girl had walked away, attempting to regain her posture. Piper hadn't been able to face her until days later, when she'd found Thalia crying whilst she thought she was alone, close to the lake at Camp Half Blood, staring blankly at the Zeus cabin, where Jason would be if he were still alive. Piper had reached out to her, and they'd bonded. Bonded over Jason, with tears, and weak, tentative smiles. They'd helped each other – through the pain and fresh loss of the son of Jupiter, and, with time, became friends. Strong friends, an unspoken friendship. At one point, Thalia had offered her a place in the Hunt, but she'd refused, saying,

"I'm not sure, Thalia. I think – I think it was just Jason, but ..." she'd trailed off, but Thalia nodded, like she understood the words Piper couldn't say.

Two girls, hurt and pained, bonding over the loss of a brother, a cousin, a partner.

But since then, so long had passed, and Thalia had recovered – mostly. At times, when something reminded her too much of her brother, she would struggle not to break in front of the Hunt, but she couldn't help her hand trembling, her breath sharpening, excusing herself quickly to be alone. Alone, uninterrupted, where she couldn't be seen. Sometimes the hunters looked for her, but other times they left her alone, in solitude.

Piper had mostly recovered, too, after the length of two years without Jason. And while Thalia was in the Hunt and rarely at camp, they remained friends – their unforgotten time together, helping each other, burned fresh in their minds, even though it seemed so long ago. She'd taken up training more often – getting rid of her emotions through slashes of her dagger, through destroying the dummies and fighting the campers – and, when they visited, Thalia.

And two years after Jason had been killed, she started to believe she might fall for someone else. Part of her felt guilty – guilty for being happy at times when Jason was dead. Guilty for even thinking, however briefly, about a relationship other than the dead boy. She had been in love with him; she partly still was. But she couldn't help but notice one girl in particular, the girl who's rare smile lit the room, like a light leading her in this world of darkness. And the one girl Piper did not want to like. Out of everyone – literally every single person, girl, boy, non-binary, Transgender or any other gender, but, instead, she fell for one girl – tough, burning, like fire and rage and storm. A daughter of Ares, a fighter, with spears and a history of slaughtering monsters.

Clarisse La Rue.

A vicious fighter, head counsellor of the Ares cabin, and looked like she would never like anyone that way. Except she did – someone, Piper learned, named Chris.

Which meant, generally, that Piper would end up liking her – and, with her luck, it made sense.

So when Thalia offered her, once again, a place in the Hunt, she explained this to her in soft tones, her eyes steely.

"Thanks, Thalia but . . ."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, who is it?"

Piper raised an eyebrow.

"You were quite eager to join the hunt, but you thought – maybe it's only because – because of -" she swallowed, and then continued, her My Chemical Romance shirt not quite fitting in with her silver Circlet, which marked her as lieutenant of the Hunt.

"I – not someone good," Piper decided to say. "Not anyone good to end up liking."

Thalia groaned. "It never is," she said, tapping her fingers on her bow. "But I want a proper reason why not. So, who?"

"Just – no one," Piper answered, attempting to avoid the question. It wasn't that she cared about not being straight – no, she'd always known she'd be accepted, as the demigods had a lot more to worry about than someone being another sexuality, it was that no one actually knew what Omnisexual was. The few times she'd told anyone, she'd generally received a 'What?', until she changed it to bi. She hated it; hated doing that, when it wasn't who she was. But she'd done it so people wouldn't bug her, say she was trying to feel special when she wasn't.

"Piper."

Piper swallowed and glanced sideways at Thalia, where she stood leaning against a tree.

"Clarisse," she grumbled.

Thalia's eyebrows shot up. "Clarisse?"

Piper didn't say anything, but she waited tensely for the,

"You're not straight? Since when have you been gay? You dated my brother!"

She knew it wasn't fair, but it was quite natural, even though she did know Thalia wouldn't care. She considered that Thalia wouldn't actually say anything about her sexuality.

"That's – that's – everyone, and Clarisse?"

"I know!" Piper protested. "Literally anyone and then it decides that, no, it's got to be Clarisse." It wasn't that Clarisse was a bad person, no, it was just that Clarisse would never like her. For one, the girl had a boyfriend, and for another, she was straight.

Thalia glanced at her. "It's never too late to join the Hunt. There's plenty of hot girls there," she winked.

She fought a blush. 'I don't think -"

Thalia laughed. "And you are . . .?" She trailed off, but Piper got her meaning. What sexuality are you?

"Omni." She answered, slightly hesitant.

"Hmmm," Thalia mused. "So – anyone, but you have a preference for gender?"

Piper was surprised. Thalia actually knew what it was. Hardly anyone did, nowadays.

Thalia leaned towards her. "Yeah? And what gender is it?" she whispered into her ear.

Piper pushed her away. "Thalia."

Thalia let out a laugh.

"Thalia!" someone called from a few hundred meters away, a bow in hand and a small amount of blood on her dagger.

Thalia sighed. "It's Amy."

"Amy?"

"She likes to say her last name's Pond, but it's really not." She picked her dagger form the ground. "Later, Pipes."

"Yeah," she responded as the hunter walked away.

Half way back, Thalia turned. "And Piper?" she called. "Don't think I didn't notice you checking me out!"

Piper choked.


End file.
